The Horses

Father beat me when I told him I didn’t want to go.He got out the horsewhip and lashed me good and hard.I suppose I should have expected it, but…well, love makes you a little addlebrained.He even walked me to the wagon station, where those fine horses would take me to school, the mysterious place where all the village’s finest went.
The horses were shiny, shinier than any well-groomed horse I had ever seen.I touched one, and it was cold and hard.The black eyes fluttered around inside its head with no regard for where the other one was-not like normal eyes at all. They didn’t stomp their feet like the village horses, either: they just waited, perfectly still and silent except for their eyes.When the driver whipped the air, they obediently cantered in unison, smoother and faster than I’d ever seen a horse go.
“Will they have things like this at school?” I asked the driver.
“Kid, they’ll have way better than this,” he said gruffly.
I had no idea what a baby goat had to do with this, but decided to let it go.

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